The Brotherhood of the Thieves
by Jaycest
Summary: This is a BMT spoof about the Thieves. Second chapter is written for a X'mas/Dirty fic challenge on the forum. - CHAPTER 2 POSTED -
1. A Young Thief's Dilemma

_This is a response to a BMT Fic challenge for a weird pairing theme._

_**Warnings: Mature theme. Coarse language (mild). Sexual references (mild). Not suitable for those below 13 years of age.**_

_Set during the __**The Novice**__, not long after Cery started to help Akkarin hunt those Sachakan spies._

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**A Young Thief's Dilemma**

Cery lifted the sharp object in his hand. Positioning it before his face, he cocked an eye. About twenty paces away from where he stood, a wooden board scarred with countless pin-sized holes was fastened to the wall beside the entrance of his office. Aiming at it carefully, he threw the yerim with a flick of his wrist.

It swished across the room, cutting a clean path through the air. For the hundredth time, it landed onto the floor with an annoying thud.

"Dunghead!" Cery spat, losing the last of his patience.

Still swearing amiably under his breath, he whipped a weapon from his coat and flung it across the room, sending his frustration along with it. But as soon as the hilt left his hand, the door swung inward without warning.

"Ceryni, Fa…!"

Eyes widening, the large man at the door froze in his tracks. Barely less than an inch from his face, the dagger flew past, striking the door frame with a precise plunge.

His heart nearly stopped, Cery couldn't believe what he just did. He had almost killed his bodyguard. But the man should have known better than to barge in like this after working with him for a while.

Gathering his wits, he snapped. "You should have knocked, Gol."

Brows raised, the big man side stepped away from the door. "I did." He answered flatly.

"Then you didn't knock hard enough," Cery shot back.

Gol lifted his shoulders defensively before his gaze fell onto the clutter of yerim lying on the floor. It annoyed Cery further when he read the expression skittering cross his face. That made him even more determined to have his own set of yerim made, so he could perfect his usage of them.

This was one of those days for him. Nothing went smoothly. Their prey slipped away. Four tags he had put on the rogue magician, but the man out-witted them instead. Not only had they failed to snuff his hideout, he had taken them on a wild goose chase, and cleverly evaded their trail afterwards. Worse still, the rogue magician would have known by now that he was being eyed. And Cery's employer would not like it at all.

Yanking his dagger from the door frame, he glanced to the side."What is it you came for, Gol?

The big man cleared his throat. "Faren's here."

Cery's stomach sank. "Again?"

Gol nodded. "He's outside."

"Tell him I'm busy." He instructed, though it sounded more like a plea instead.

"That's what I told him." Gol coughed several times to choke back his laughter. "But he said he will wait."

The Thief glared at him.

_Excellent, my day can't get any better than this._

The Lonmar has been acting weird lately. Almost every other day he would come by to seek him out as if they were _really_ good friends, taking him to the bath house, _always the bath house_, then to the bolhouse and drink until the wee hours of the night. Not that Cery disliked his company. No, on a second thought, he does in fact. But that wasn't the point. He just couldn't understand why the Lonmar isn't hooking up with the other Thieves instead. Of all people, why _him_?

Just thinking of bol made his stomach sick. He simply had too much to drink these days. Besides, those comments Faren frequently made about his body, whenever they went to the baths, are starting to make him feel uneasy. And...molested.

Bumps started to rise on his skin.

He wanted to avoid Faren badly, but, he didn't like the idea of offending him either. It was only in the recent months he had started to gain a little success in the underground world. Although Faren's reputation has been tainted after he broke his bargain with Sonea, he still had a considerable number of men under his influence. And they were the ones providing important leads to the whereabouts of the rogues.

Since he hadn't earned enough to recruit more men of his own, he _needed_ to maintain that connection with the Lonmar to get his job done, and secure his place among the Thieves. For the time being at least, especially after the blunder made by his men today.

Cery smothered a groan. It seems like he had no other choice but pimp himself to Faren again tonight. No, for the _entire_ night.

Suppressing a shudder, he shook his head. _Better get done with this. _And he dragged himself out of his office.

"Hai Faren!" He greeted him with fake enthusiasm.

"Ceryni!" The Lonmar rose from the chair he was seating and ran his pale yellow eyes over him from top to toe, smiling. "Come here!" He closed the distance between them in a few strides, pulling him a little too forcefully, into a hug.

Cery bit back his protest. He hated it when Faren does that. It is one thing to be hugged by a man, but entirely another to be assaulted by his overpowering stench which smells like some cheap perfume mingled with stale sweat. To make things worse, the Lonmar was as tall as he was short. Measuring up to his shoulder, his face was precisely crushed against his underarm which stank like the slum sewers.

_No wonder he visits the bathhouse so frequently. _Cery fought back the bile souring his throat. _Not that it helps, he still smells rotten. _

Then something ticklish caught his attention. Looking closer, his eyes widen in horror. The Lonmar was wearing a sleeveless shirt and Cery could see strands of hair sticking out from his underarms right before his nose.

_Dung!_ He backed away immediately before his stomach took another flip. Forcing a smile, he tried not to show the disgust on his face.

"What can I do for you today, Faren?"

_Stupid question, you know what he wants._

"Well…business has been slow these days," The Lonmar shrugged helplessly. "I was thinking perhaps we can get out and let off some steam." He raised his brows at him in a lascivious way. "You seemed to enjoy the other times, so what say you, Cery?"

_I would have enjoyed myself even more if you get out of here right now._

"What are we waiting for then?" Cery kept his smile plastered to his face.

_Stop whoring yourself!_

"Ah...I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." Faren nodded approvingly, grinning at the same time. His teeth were so white that they were probably the only thing which doesn't repulse Cery.

"Come, we should try the _Mighty Swords_ bath house this time!" Faren narrowed his eyes suggestively, then his voice lowered.

"I heard the _view_ there is breath-taking..."

Cery paled.

_Mighty Swords? Isn't that famous for…._ He couldn't finish that thought as Faren had already swung an arm over his shoulder and dragged him out of the door eagerly.

Evening was just making way for nightfall by the time they struck the bustling streets. The cool air lifted the young Thief's spirit, as it was a relief to be out in the open after the journey through the Thieves' Road. He looked around him, and considered their destination. Never had he patronised the _Mighty Swords _before. Ignorant ones would think that it was just another place where one could wash and relax themselves at the cost of a few coins. But from what he heard, the hangout is known to be frequented by "gold mines" in search for people who shares the same interest.

Consider it a den filled with howling wolves searching for mates of the same sex.

If it wasn't for the Lonmar's insistence, Cery will not venture into such a domain. Who in the right mind, at least straight man like him, would? Surely Faren is not serious about it. Or was he?

Suspicions nagged at Cery, and his uneasiness grew by the minute.

He stole a glance at the Lonmar, who was making eyes at some prostitutes looking far too old to be in business. Cery wasn't sure what to make of it. More often than not, he had found him to be queer or disturbing at times. And others who knew him speak of the same thing. Perhaps it's because his kind is rare in Imardin, and those pale yellow eyes weren't easy to look at for most people. Not to mention his reputation among the whores. He likes women, _a lot_, and is rumoured to take on a few at the same time. Although he usually have to spend more coins than the others, as most of the whores were repulsed by his legendary odour.

Despite that, it just occurred to Cery he could likely be a goldmine after hanging out with him in the recent weeks. So what is he exactly?

Cery hoped it wasn't the latter. Otherwise, his virginity would be at risk of being robbed by a foul smelling man and not some inviting young voluptuous woman he had always imagined. But to his dismay, he soon found himself standing before a building with a large signage that reads.

"_**The Mighty Swords Bath House. Get your swords polished by the BEST in town**_**!"**

_Dung and rot!_ Cery cursed. A familiar chill trickled down his spine as the Lonmar winked at him, playfully, then urged him through the entrance. Hair standing on ends, he realised the shop helper had already showed them to an open bath which is something he had not seen before. Typical bath houses offer private rooms to their customers, where a few men could talk and get cleaned at the same time, but certainly not something like this, where one could see the other freely. As if everyone was dying to display their swords, for selection.

Every sensible thought told him that he should leave this place immediately. And from the corner of his eye, he could see heads turning to watch them undress. Wrapping a pathetic length of scrubbing cloth around his waist, he wiggled himself out of his pants, reluctantly.

So conscious of his modesty, he jumped when a hand rested on his bare shoulder. Pulse quickening, he turned around and realised that Faren was already stark naked, smiling at him in a creepy way.

"First time huh?" The Lonmar asked.

Stunned, Cery forced himself not to wander his gaze anywhere beyond his chin. Nodding like a fool, he wasn't even sure if the Lonmar was asking about his visit here or his sexual experience.

"You cannot enter the bath with that thing around your waist." Faren told him with that hair-raising smile on his face.

Cery took a sharp breath, glanced around him. Everyone was watching with curiosity burning in their eyes. He gulped uneasily. Surely he can do this, he tried to convince himself. A bath, that's all he came for and nothing else. As long as he didn't attempt anything suggestive, no one will mistake him for a goldmine.

Most importantly, he needed to stay in Faren's good books, not matter how hard it might be, even if it means taking a bit of risk like this.

"Relax Ceryni…." Faren coaxed with a voice that sounded too silky for comfort. He eyed Cery's chest before his gaze moved slowly downwards, lingering a few disturbing moments between his legs. Then he smiled at him again, nodding his head several times in approval.

Cery felt his blood turn cold. The Lonmar must have mistaken his behaviour for something else. Something he refused to even think about. No matter how desperate he was, there is no way he would whore himself in such a manner. Snapping his eyes away, he grabbed his shirt and pants and shrugged into them, fuming with anger at the same time.

"I'm leaving." He threw a look at Faren which would have drawn blood. Without waiting for him to reply, he turned around and stormed out of the bath swearing that he would do something about his chastity tonight.

"Where are you going?" The Lonmar called after him desperately.

"To the whorehouse!" Cery thundered and left the god-forsaken place.

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**Author's notes:**

**I hope you've enjoyed this fic, I've always wanted to write about the Thieves and this challenge came in timely! ^_^**

**This is my first attempt at writing a funny one, hope I didn't creep you out instead :p **

**Faren's fans, please don't kill me! Between him and Cery, I would rather make fun of him *LOL* **

**I'll try to do him justice in my next Thieves' fic, just need to find time to write it!**

**As always, **_**THANKS**_** to **_**Ralobat **_**for beta-ing and to **_**Laura**_** for allowing me to franchise her "Sword" idea! ^_^**

_**PLEASE do leave your reviews and let me know what you think about this! **_


	2. Secrets of a Long Winter Night

_**Warnings**: Coarse language, sexual references (mild) and sexual content (mild). OC included. _

_This was written in response to a X'mas/Dirty fic challenge on the forum. Well, if you are wondering how these two themes can be merged together, read on then :p_

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The first flakes of snow came swirling down with the swift arrival of nightfall. Cery turned up his collar and stepped out into the biting cold. The deepening sky had an austere harshness to it, and the warmth bestowed by the evening sun was soon carried away as the rising winds swept through the snow covered streets. Folk busied on with their daily tasks. Lamps were lilted and were hung outside of the shops, stores and bolhouses guiding patrons to the food, drinks and gossips offered behind their wooden doors. But the dwindling daylight also meant the closing of business for the owners by the roadside stalls. Even the street whores were calling it a day. No amount of coins would keep them out in the open tonight. Men looking to satisfy their itch and the clamouring needs of their bodies would have to look elsewhere on this cold winter night.

It was the end of the shortest day but the beginning of the longest night. It was also an occasion to send away the darkest time of the winter and to welcome the returning warmth of another year.

Hunching his shoulders tight, Cery thrust his hands into the depths of his pockets and stalked through rows and rows of buildings and houses through the thick curtain of frost fluttering down from the sky above. The festive garlands which adorned many doors looked silly to him. Those evergreens which festooned its lintels were an eyesore to him. He scowled at everyone he saw. He scoffed at every jeer and laugh that drifted to his ears from the brimming stores. And he closed his heart to anything that reminded him of how miserably alone he was. Winterfest. He had hated this day, ever since his father had passed away.

He should have stayed at home tonight. But where was home to him now? Cery snorted to himself with disdain. That stuffy room he had in the underground tunnels? That rat hole with no windows or a hearth to kindle? He wallowed in self-pity like a street beggar lacking in both women and money. This time of the year always made him feel like this, a nobody. He blew out a heavy sigh and let the steaming puffs brushed his cheeks as he stepped through the midst of it.

Darting his eyes to a corner, he gave a sullen nod to the dark shadow emerging from a nearby alley which then fell in step shortly beside him. It was Gol, his body guard of a burly build, with a humour as dry as the Tarali River during height of the fieriest days in summer. His face looked as sour as Cery's mood was. And that observation smothered the young Thief's annoyance by a small measure. At least he wasn't the only person who gave no care for the merriment and jests of Winterfest. Perhaps Gol would make good company tonight. And without a word, they left their footprints on the blanket of snow beneath their feet, marking their journey to the bolhouse that was part of Ravi's territory.

Soon after, they arrived at the heart of the East side market. Despite being a regular of this place, the large signage outside the two storey high building never failed to amuse him just like the very first time it did. It said:

"_The Bouncy Jugs Bolhouse, Get Your Hands on the Fullest Jugs in Town!_"

Cery shook his head. The wooden board was shaped after a certain part of a woman's body which stroked a man's interest in ways that weren't hard to imagine. For the first time tonight, he found himself smiling.

As he pushed the set of heavy doors apart, he was greeted with the sight of a den filled with brawly men shouting over the heads of others in loud and gruffy voices. Winding between the tables were serving maids with jugs of bol in their hands while many of the men fixed their eyes leeringly on their bosoms.

_Well, at least this place lives up to its name,_ Cery observed mildly.

His gaze lingered on a pretty little wench, who had flirted with him ever since he had first visited here. Despite those inviting lips and her tiny alluring waist, he had resisted every urge and temptation to take her to bed. But still, she was one of the reasons which made him return to this place.

"Close the damn door you dunghead, you are bringing the cursed snow in here!" Someone roared from inside the room.

Breaking out of his reverie, Cery snapped his eyes to the man whose face was furiously flushed as that of a drunkard's. His companion, recognising who Cery was, widened his eyes in shock. He hastily gestured an apologetic signal and dragged his ill-mannered friend to the corner of the room then threw some water on his face.

Gol coaxed the doors close behind him as Cery's attention was immediately drawn by another loud voice calling him to the counter at the far left of the crowded room.

"Ah Torrin's boy..." Smiling, Ravi handed a mug of bol to him as he leaned sideways against the chest-high table overlooking the entire place. He raised a brow at Cery.

"You looked as if a woman has just turned you out from her bed."

Limek, who was standing beside Cery, cackled out in laughter and slapped a meaty hand on his shoulder.

"Is it true then?" He teased him. "Come visit my whorehouse tomorrow. I'll make sure my best ladies are waiting for you!" And he lifted his mug to a toast, his mocking eyes looking over the brim at Cery who instead was glowering at him.

Cery mumbled a quiet oath, more to himself than the older Thief. Having been in this place for less than five minutes, he immediately regretted showing up for this accursed celebration. Watching Limek and Ravi exchanging some crude jests, he wondered what Ravi had found worth celebrating. Winter in the slums was a harbinger of death and illnesses, a time of the yearly Purge ordered by the King and aided by the Guild magicians. It was also in this cold season his father was killed, and he lost the girl he once loved to magic and its wonders.

He dragged in a deep breath, and mastered his emotions to a peaceful calmness. Pointless to trouble himself with such misfortunes and changes that were beyond his ability to prevent nor his will to change.

Sweeping his eyes across the room now, the din had already heightened to a deafening clamour. Men were having too much to drink but lacked the ability to resist the intoxicating effects of it. Rough words were yelled across the tables, promising rougher brawls and shuffles as a definite consequence. Blows would surely be thrown and knives would soon be drawn, even before the night runs out until the arrival of the long-awaited dawn.

But suddenly, he sensed an immediate change in the atmosphere. Voices were lowered, and heads began to turn. Lusty sneers were seen on all their faces and the crowd began to hurl loud and lecherous whistles to somewhere behind Cery's table. Baffled by what he saw, he turned around to see what captured the entire room's attention.

There, from the staircase beside the counter, came a woman looking both dangerous and provocative. She sauntered towards Ravi and pressed a deep kiss on his lips while wrapping her arms around his waist intimately.

Cery dropped his jaws wide.

_Isn't that Gorin's woman?_

He remained stunned for a while, until they parted from each others' arms. At a look, Ravi's second then emerged from a corner and escorted the woman to the door. But no sooner had Cery returned to awareness he was immediately thrown into another state of astonishment when a few foolish men, whose boldness were likely accentuated by the bol they had drank, called out filthy comments to her retreating back. He held his breath. Half-expecting Ravi to storm out of the counter to teach those fools a lesson, Cery readied himself to hold him back. That was unnecessary however. The woman spun around with a blazing look in her eyes, and lashed an oath so offensive which made him gawk at her in shocked surprise. Both Limek and Ravi broke out laughing. There were only a few men who could have done better than her. And one of them was Torrin, his father.

Not for the first time, Cery sorely missed the man who had taught him the ways of the underground world long before he became a part of it on his own. A squimp he had been, but Cery had admired his extraordinary lock picking skills and his unwavering courage which many had considered a fool's mettle. That was how Cery had regarded him when he was still a boy of less than fifteen years. Looking back now however, he began to form a different set of opinions about his father. And he wondered how much Ravi and Limek knew, about a past that was never fully told. How did he die? Who was the man that killed him many years back during Winterfest? So deep in his thoughts, Cery failed to realise that someone else had joined their table, until his skin prickled.

"Ah Ceryni…I thought you would not see me again…" A smooth voice came from behind.

Cery went stiff with caution when a familiar, yet repulsive stench, wafted to his nostrils.

"Faren." He returned flatly, and took a manful draught of bol, refusing to establish any eye contact with the Lonmar Thief. While he maintained a stoic expression, Limek appraised him and Faren speculatively.

"What's going on with you two?" The bearded Thief demanded. He gave his elbow a nudge so annoying that Cery was forced to look at him. "You are still sore about the bet he placed on you, aren't you?" Limek questioned him.

"Bet?" Surprised, Cery blinked once, and then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What bet?" He directed those words to the Lonmar and felt his anger rising at the sight of him.

Limek and Ravi passed a look between them.

"You did not tell Cery." Ravi said finally, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the bar behind him. It wasn't a question. And Faren wasted no time denying.

"He refused to see me." The Lonmar spread his hands defensively. "Besides, you were a part of this, Ravi. You didn't tell him either."

"Don't give me boot, Faren." Ravi gave him a dark scowl. "You took it too far."

For a few seconds, they stood glaring at one another before the Lonmar settled into a chair farther down the counter putting Limek between him and Cery who was carrying a nasty look on his face.

"Is someone going to tell me what the bet is all about?" Cery was clearly losing his patience.

All eyes fell upon the Lonmar but he looked as if it was none of his concern. An agitated Ravi condemned his behaviour with a rude gesture of a finger. Clearing his throat defeatedly, the beady-eye man shifted his gaze back to Cery.

"Faren believes you have a thing for boys. I disagree. So I offered him one of my territories if he proves you a goldmine. You get it?"

"Me, liking boys?" Cery exclaimed in utter disbelief. That horrifying assumption thrust him forward with such anger and he found himself storming towards Faren, grabbing him by his collar.

"You are the goldmine! I wouldn't have gone to the Mighty Swords if you had not dragged me!"

His hands were roughly shoved aside as Faren stood up and met his eyes squarely. He swore at him.

"Are you a dunghead? Haven't you heard a thing about me?" Those pale yellow eyes stared down at Cery crossly. For a fleeting second, the young thief had to stop himself looking away from that disturbing stare.

"Ah of course you haven't." A sneer slowly twisted on Faren's lips. "You dare not visit the brothels or sleep with any woman. Didn't you run away from the whorehouse that night?" He snubbed him with a derisive snort.

Despite his brewing anger, heat rose to Cery's cheeks. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Limek was making an effort not to laugh at him. Then he felt a stab of panic.

_How did Faren find out about this?_ _Haven't I done what was necessary?_

In truth, Cery didn't "run away" as the Lonmar had put it. Yes, he left the whorehouse without sleeping with any of the whores. To anyone else, that would have been an immense laughing stock. Yet it was only because he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing with no one except Sonea. A wishful thought that he knew only too well, he had always hoped that she would one day look at him, not as a friend, but as a man she would want to spend her life with. But whatever his reasons were, it was not possible to speak of them without making himself a permanent object of their mockery, let alone expect any of the Thieves to understand him.

"We should talk upstairs." Ravi pointed out coolly. He scanned the entire place for a minute, then said, "The men should not be hearing all this."

Cery blew a quiet sigh of relief. The conversation was getting far too embarrassing for his comfort. Weaving their way through the crowd, they made their way up to a private chamber on the second floor of the building with Faren and Cery pushing one another throughout that short journey.

Giving Faren a menacing look, Cery jostled passed him and stepped into the lush interior. He settled into one of the armchairs placed around a square table in the centre of the room, then swept his eyes to examine the entire space. To the far end was a large feathery bed. The hearth against the wall at his back provided warmth to all of them. Faren took the seat opposite him with a wary look on his face, while Ravi and Limek ensconced themselves on either side of them.

"Ceryni…" Ravi was the first to speak. He handed a glass of wine to him while he regarded him with a measuring look. "I asked you here to sort things out with Faren."

At that, he threw an accusing look at the Lonmar who returned his stare impassively. Cery ignored him, and watched the shadows flickering on Ravi's face as he continued to speak.

"If you haven't realised, we already have a common enemy to deal with." He shifted his gaze back to Cery again. "Among the four of us, there should not be any hostility. You hear me?"

_Common enemy?_ Something struck Cery. _He's referring to Gorin, is he?_ He considered for a moment before he returned a grudging nod as an answer. And Ravi carried on.

"It was a mistake, a joke taken too far. Now, you cannot blame Faren with all that chaste behaviour of yours." His voice was even, but Cery did not miss the mocking tone beneath it.

"You shouldn't have run away from the brothel, Ceryni…."

Limek burst out laughing this time, and Ravi did not attempt to hide the mocking sneer tugging his lips. Cery shot them an insulted look. He opened his mouth to defend himself but Ravi raised a hand, stopping him.

"Paying a whore not to speak is ill-advised, Torrin's boy. Gossip spreads like fire around the whorehouses before you even realise."

Cery felt his face warming again. And he jumped when Limek gave him a friendly punch on his ribs.

"It's wiser to pay a whore to make some noise in your bed instead!"

Faren coughed to mask his laughter.

"You find that funny?" Cery snapped at him. "Not every man is a rotten capper like you, Faren."

Not insulted at the least, the Lonmar lifted his shoulders and returned smugly. "A capper like me is better than a pathetic man who finds comfort in his own hands." And he made an obscene gesture which made Limek bawled in laughter. Even Ravi snorted with amusement. But in the next minute, his gaze sharpened at Cery again.

"Now, listen to me and you listen good." He pointed a finger at him. "Gorin's eyeing us closely. Any strife between us is a chance for him to raid our territories. Especially yours, Ceryni…"

"Why?"

"Your da double-crossed him. Gorin will not scruple to get rid of you just like he did him."

Cery drew in a sharp breath. "No." He disputed without hesitating. "Gorin was not yet a chief when my da died."

"None of us were." Limek explained. "Me, Ravi, Faren and your da, we nailed a few wild deals together while we were doing the old Thieves."

"But Torrin was greedy, not to mention foolish," Faren added darkly. The whites on his temples suddenly seemed more prominant when he recounted those memories. "He was too clever for his own good. He not only dared to mess with Gorin, he even got into serious rub by swallowing his money. There was no way he could have escaped being punished."

His heart clenched tightly. Hearing someone speak ill of a man he once admired greatly saddened him. Strange somehow, he felt no anger however. After being a Thief himself, he realised that his father wasn't quite the figure he had always pictured him. Cery leaned back into his chair and tried to register what he had just heard. He knew his father died because he betrayed the Thieves. Never did he expect Gorin to be the one who killed him. But it all made sense to him now. Gorin has never taken a great liking for him. There was always an abhorring look in his eyes whenever he referred him as "Torrin's boy." But still…

"Why should I trust any of you?" Cery challenged them.

Limek shook his head. "How do you think you managed to establish your place so quickly?"

Cery regarded him thoughtfully. Despite their differences, Faren did help him. In fact, he was the one who took him into the underground world when he was hiding Sonea from the Guild. And so did Ravi and Limek by introducing the right people who were willing to do business with him.

"What we can't do for Torrin, we can help his son at least." Faren added quietly. "You have guts like him, but with more caution than ambition."

Surprised, Cery lifted his eyes and met the Lonmar's. He wore a serious expression and seemed genuine when he said those words to him.

"Is that how you are making peace with me?" Cery asked him scornfully.

Faren shrugged. "If that makes you happy."

Cery snorted and turned to Ravi. "What are you doing with Gorin's woman if he is eyeing us closely?"

Ravi raised his brows, considered Cery for a few moments before he spoke finally. "Mind your own business, Torrin's boy." And he stood from his chair. "Think about what we've said and decide for yourself who you would rather trust." Then he tilted his head to the door and the rest of them rose from their seats, leaving him to sort out his thoughts on his own.

He watched them leave, and sighed heavily. He had a hunch that Ravi was right. They had to watch each other's backs against Gorin's attempt to claim himself a leader among the Thieves. On one hand, he had no reason to distrust them, but, it was not wise to trust them completely either. That was the way of the underground world. Friends today could become your enemy the very next day. But there wasn't much choice for him, was it? Between Ravi and Gorin, he would rather stand against the man who had killed his closest kin...then his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden knocking at the door.

"Come in."

There, standing behind it, was the pretty little wench who had her eyes on him. She gave him a dimpled smile, clutching a dark bottle against her chest.

"Ravi told me you wanted more wine." Henna told him with a small voice.

Cery raised his brows and looked at the bottle of wine on the table that was hardly drunk. He snorted to himself. _Mind my own business eh? _

Henna followed his gaze. "Is there a mistake?"

"No." Cery straightened himself and replied quickly.

At his gesture, Henna stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She looked at him, curiously, but darted her eyes away when Cery gazed at her as she poured more wine for him.

"You look unhappy tonight, Ceryni." She observed with a small smile on her face.

"Do I?" Cery managed a weak smile. "Perhaps I am. You know me that well, don't you?" He couldn't resist teasing her, and the way she drew in a sharp breath before looking away in embarrassment afforded him a small amount of pleasure.

"Why did you choose to work here, Henna?"

Her eyes widened at his question, and a bitter smile curled around her lips. "My da is a gambler. He owes Ravi money."

"Perhaps I should cut his hands off." Cery offered. "He wouldn't gamble and you no longer have to endure his beatings." He eyed the dark bruises on her arms and the faded marks on her cheeks.

Henna stilled. "How did you know this?"

"Ah…I'm watching him." He explained to her before his voice deepened. "Why did he beat you?"

Henna hesitated for a moment, looked away uneasily. "I refused to take customers." Her voice went hard at the last word.

"Why not? With your looks, you could have earned a lot more money than you could imagine."

She inhaled sharply and looked at him with disbelief. "If I wanted to sleep with men, I would have worked in the brothel instead." Then she paused, added softly. "There is only one person I will lie with."

Cery drew in a short breath, stared at her coloured face. He knew exactly what she meant and a treacherous part of him felt his flesh stirring in response to that comment. Unlike the other women who work here, she blushed like an innocent girl when he complimented her and lowered her eyes in disappointment when he did nothing more than leave few more coins for her on the table. For a long time, he knew she was willing to come to his to bed if only he would take her, and he couldn't deny that he _did_ desire her. Perhaps…he should stop pinning his hopes on Sonea. Why should he continue to long for someone who didn't even know that he longed for her? Wasn't it time to let go of that affection and instead pursue a happiness that he so deserved?

Acting on an impulse that consumed him, Cery grabbed her, and pulled her onto his lap suddenly. Henna released a loud gasp.

"You know what I am, don't you?" He asked her as he plucked the glass from her hand, placing it on the table.

Henna's eyes few wide with shock before she lowered them, and nodded quietly as her cheeks began to show a deeper shade of red.

"It's not safe being friends with a Thief, you know that?" Cery breathed. Her heady scent, combined with the excitement coursing through his body, made his head swirl and all rational thoughts began to elude him.

"Friends?" A look of uncertainty appeared on her face. "We are already friends…" She lowered her voice in disappointment. "I thought you meant…"

"Lovers?" Cery suggested mischievously. Henna struggled to move away as a shy expression stole over her face. But he held her tight against him, wrapping his arms around her waist possessively.

Cery wasn't sure if he was making a mistake. But he tipped her chin towards him and tasted her full, inviting lips. He wanted her, tonight. A lonely man like him was free to take whatever that was offered to him. And he will be a fool otherwise to dwell on a false hope that blinded him from things that would have made him happy. Years of being untouched, he looked at her now with all the lust he knew and he felt a mad urge to plunge himself into her, ignoring all likely consequences. His pulse quickened by the minute. He wondered if she could hear the sound of his heart thundering. And he wondered if she knew how much it had cost him to stay away from her whenever she tempted him with what he was afraid to take without his conscience berating him. For the first time in his life, he discovered the secrets of a woman's body. Blood boiling like fire burning inside him, Cery claimed what he had resisted for months and it now rode him with a searing intensity as she locked her body with his.

If bedding her was some kind of a mistake, he made it not once, but several times, until they were both spent and gasping for air. Closing his eyes as he gathered himself, Cery could hear the noise drifting to his ears from the room below their private chamber. He remembered where he was, and the reasons that brought him to this place. It was a celebration that was supposed to be filled with joy and laughter. A time where lovers spilled their secrets, and cuddle in bed with their bodies close to one another. It was a night for friends to share bol, wine and conversations and a chance for a lonely man like him to find some meaning in his life and his existence.

By the time he left the bolhouse, night was slipping away, and dawn was fast approaching. Cery stood for a while, watched the crystalline flakes falling from the sky above dance before his face. They landed softly on his cheeks, and he found himself smiling. With a deep breath, he began his journey back home, feeling less cold than he had hours before. He found some answers, more than he had expected, and he found a person, who would return his feelings in ways he would never have received from an unrequited love interest. Perhaps he would eventually come to terms with those unpleasant memories that always returned to haunt him during the heart of this cold season. Looking at the road ahead of him now, he slowly recalled the old times when he had truly enjoyed such festivity.

Winterfest, an occasion that warmed the hearts of those people who celebrated its significance: the promise of a better year. And after such a long time, he finally allowed himself to take heart in the belief which he had once forgotten.

* * *

**_Author's notes: _**

_A **BIG HUG** to **Laura Scofield** (My Sexy Little Mistress :p) for beta-ing this fic! ***winks***_

_I did mentioned that I'll sort of redeem Faren for defiling him in my previous Thieves' fic. Well I've given an explanation about his odd behaviour towards Cery here. _

_As always, I hope you have enjoyed this fic! _

_Reviews are most welcome! ^_^_


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